


i’ll give you what you wanna have (i’ll take you where you wanna go)

by dirtyhelen



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (implied) - Freeform, Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:53:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24424561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtyhelen/pseuds/dirtyhelen
Summary: You and Steve take your relationship to a new level (but notthatlevel).
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 18
Kudos: 95





	i’ll give you what you wanna have (i’ll take you where you wanna go)

**Author's Note:**

> Literally just smut. Porn without even the semblance of plot. Just 2000 words of you sitting in Steve’s lap as he makes you come. Just 2000 words of self-indulgent, over-narrated, female-focused smut. Title from Louisa by Lord Huron.

You’re cradled between Steve’s thighs with your back resting against his chest. His strong arms are wrapped around you, crossing over your belly and stroking occasionally over your sides. You feel safe and warm, but there’s an undercurrent of nervousness thrumming inside you.  
  
His lips press against your neck, just lightly, but you jolt a little, surprised by the contact.  
  
“Is this okay?” he asks, shaping the words against your skin, his breath hot on your neck. A shiver runs through you and you nod, feeling his arms hold you tighter in response.  
  
With your permission granted Steve begins gently kissing along the exposed skin in his reach, trailing along the side of your neck, leaning down to your shoulder to gently drag his teeth along it.  
  
He takes his time exploring the area thoroughly, focusing on anything that quickens your breathing or makes you gasp. The delicate skin just below your ear receives special attention.  
  
All the while your hands clench and unclench at your sides, while his begin to roam more freely.  
  
His touches are feather light but you’re hyper aware of them and they fuel a heat that’s gradually building in your core. After a while of barely there caresses you have fight to keep from rocking your hips up into the air as your clit throbs for attention under your pajamas.  
  
Steve seems to sense your slow-burning frustration — your face heats with the realization he probably _can_ sense it, literally. With those supersoldier abilities he’s almost definitely able to pick up the scent of slick, pooling in your underwear. He inhales deep through his nose, practically confirming your suspicion.  
  
His hands move from your waist and slowly slide down your belly until his fingertips rest just at the tops of your thighs, over your shorts.  
  
“Still okay?”  
  
You nod again, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t put his hands any closer to where you so desperately need them, and you realize he’s waiting for a verbal response this time.  
  
“Yes,” you breathe, shifting to look him in the eyes. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes seem somehow foggy and focused all at once. All for you, you realize. It’s a heady feeling. You lean up to kiss him. Just a single, firm press of your lips to his, lingering a little before you turn back around.  
  
Steve’s fingers gently inch down your legs, drifting inward. He stops again mid-thigh. “Whenever you want me to stop, just tell me. Or if you don’t like something. Okay?”  
  
“Okay,” you agree. The nerves from before rise a little closer to the surface, Steve’s earlier attention having buried them beneath a warm layer of arousal.  
  
He pulls your thighs apart, hooking them over his own so your legs are spread wide, plenty of room for his hands. He strokes over your skin, lightly dragging his fingernails along your inner thighs, digging in a little more when he feels your breath hitch at the sensation. He shifts the legs of your shorts to stroke the skin underneath before letting the fabric fall back in place.  
  
He teases you until you feel like you’re going to explode from the untapped pressure in your core.  
  
Then _finally_ his right hand moves, up and in, until it’s resting over the length of your cunt. His big palm rests over your mound, long fingers reaching all the way down your folds and over your opening.  
  
He does nothing, just rests his hand there, not even applying pressure, likely looking for some sign you’re uncomfortable with the contact, but you nearly cry out with relief.  
  
You can’t help but roll your hips up into his hand with a little whine, giving him the encouragement he needs to continue.  
  
He pushes his palm against your clit in time with the rhythm of your hips and curls his fingertips so they’re just pressing the fabric of your shorts and underwear against your opening. For your part, you keep your movements slow and steady, just taking in the new sensations.  
  
You feel like you’re caught in a gentle but powerful current, warm water washing over your body and pulling you with it. The weight of Steve’s hand between your thighs, and his arm, stretched across your body, shifting in time with it. His deep breaths, in and out, his chest rising and falling against your back.  
  
He’s just barely moving his hand against you, letting you control the pace and pressure, but he may as well be inside you with how surrounded by him you feel. It’s not just the physical pleasure – that ember of heat in your core being stoked, slow and sure, into flame. It’s the emotion. The love you feel behind every action, yours and his. Your feelings for each other made physical, and reflected, feeding off each other in a continuous circuit.  
  
Your hips grind a little faster against Steve’s hand now, your breathing quick and shallow. He pulls back and you whine at the loss of pressure against your clit, but he just chuckles and you feel the vibrations of it against your back. “Relax,” he tells you as his hands pull at the waistband of your shorts. You eagerly lift your hips and help him tug them down and off.  
  
You settle back against him and there’s just one more barrier between your skin and his now. Simple cotton underwear with a dark spot on the front, evidence of your arousal.  
  
Steve’s hands take up their teasing journey along your thighs again, dragging you back from the ledge just far enough that you won’t fall over accidentally. When he’s confident you’re not going to come as soon as he touches you, he finally puts his hand back where you want it.  
  
But this time _he’s_ controlling the movements. Instead of resting his palm against you and letting you push up against him, he places two fingers over your covered clit and presses down in slow, small circles. The focused attention quickly has you sighing with pleasure, your fingers gripping his thighs, even though his touch is gentle and unhurried.  
  
You feel like you could have come nearly a dozen times in the past half hour, but Steve seems determined to draw it out, to let the pleasure ebb and flow, gradually building to the inevitable release.  
  
While his right hand continues to work between your legs, his left slides up your t-shirt to cup one of your breasts, just holding it in his hand at first, feeling the weight against his palm. Then he circles your nipple with a fingertip in time with the fingers on your clit.  
  
His right hand moves again, fingers reaching under the legs of your underwear and pulling the fabric together, bunched up between your folds. Then he tugs, dragging the material against your clit, pulling it tighter until it’s pressed against your opening. He does this a few times, until you’re rocking down against the pressure before letting go.  
  
Then his hands are back against your hips and together you’re removing the last barrier between your body and his hands. Again, you feel a hint of nerves as you’re completely exposed to his gaze for the first time. No hiding, not with your legs spread wide over his and that intent stare focused entirely on you.  
  
He notices, of course he notices – sweet, attentive Steve – and quickly reassures you, kissing your cheek, your temple. “You’re perfect,” he says softly and the tension melts away at the sincerity in his voice. “Can I touch you?” he asks.  
  
You nod. “Yes, please.”  
  
With another kiss to your cheek, Steve strokes his hand down over your belly and through the curls framing your cunt. He passes over your clit, dipping two fingers between your folds, seeking out the slick heat that had soaked your underwear.  
  
The breath catches in his throat when he feels just how wet you are and you feel his erection, pressed against your back, give a twitch. Clearly, despite his calm demeanor, he’s not unaffected by you. It comforts you, dissolving any lingering fear you might have of him being disappointed with your body. You feel almost powerful, despite the passive role you’re taking.  
  
His fingers circle your opening, sliding easily through the wetness there. He sinks just the tip of his one finger inside before pulling out, drawing the wetness he’s gathered up to your clit where he continues the circles from before.  
  
It’s so much more intense now with the feeling of his strong fingers on your bare skin. The movement of his hand creates a quiet, slick sound that makes your face heat up as well as your core.  
  
His circles, steadily increasing in speed, quickly have you back on the ledge, ready to fall over at any moment. But before you can his fingers are sliding down again.  
  
His middle finger slips inside you, further this time, and you immediately clench around it. “Keep going or pull out?” he asks, and you think about him saying those words with a different part of his body inside yours. The image is distracting and you realize you haven’t answered him when you feel him begin to carefully remove his finger, having taken your silence as discomfort.  
  
“No, wait,” you gasp out. “Keep going, definitely keep going.”  
  
“You sure?” There’s laughter in his voice at your almost frantic request and he chuckles again at your eager nod. “Understood,” he teases. “Keep going.”  
  
His finger enters you again, sinking in to the knuckle and curling upward, rocking experimentally as he seeks out your g-spot. The sudden buck of your hips coupled with your gasping moan tells him he’s found it and he focuses on that spot, dragging against it with every thrust.  
  
As your cunt gets slicker Steve adds another finger, moving them faster, ensuring his palm is pressed tight against your clit. The wet noises grow in volume, almost drowning out the sounds of your breathy moans in the quiet room. It’s vulgar, obscene. It would be embarrassing if you were able to think about anything other than the feelings rushing through your body.  
  
His other hand returns to your breasts, circling and tugging your nipples in turns. The combination of sensations is too much to handle and you’re pushed over the ledge you’ve been balancing on for so long.  
  
You come suddenly, your back arching and your hips bucking uncontrollably. Your cunt clamps down in pulses against Steve’s fingers, so tight he can barely move them, but he continues to thrust through your orgasm, gently now, drawing it out as long as possible.  
  
Finally the ecstasy passes and you’re forced to pull Steve’s hand away from your body as oversensitivity takes over. You collapse back against his chest with a breathless giggle.  
  
“Wow,” you sigh happily.  
  
Steve presses a kiss to your head. “Good?”  
  
You scoff around a yawn. “Good is an understatement.”  
  
“Tired you out, did I?” Steve teases. You shrug then shift, turning so you’re straddling his lap. You hold his gaze for a long moment, neither of you moving, just feeling out the new intimacy, almost tangible, between you.  
  
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lean in for a deep, lingering kiss. Your cunt presses against the bulge in his pajamas and you grind down against it. Steve moans into your mouth as his arms tighten around you.  
  
You break the kiss, pulling back to look at his face as you rock against him. His expression is divine – fair skin flushed such a pretty pink, mouth slightly open as he breathes heavy and deep, his eyes glued to the place where your wet, swollen folds drag against the fabric of his pants.  
  
You _are_ a little tired, but not so much you’d rather sleep than see what else you and Steve could do together tonight. Maybe something that would _really_ tire you out, and him too.  
  
Continuing the motion of your hips you lean in close to whisper teasingly in his ear. “What now, Captain?”

**Author's Note:**

> (See what I mean about over-narrated, female-focused, plotless smut lmao?) If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! This was not the fic I meant to be working on hahah, but it came to me yesterday morning and I just went with it, resulting in, uh, this. If you liked it feel free to kudo or comment, and if you didn’t like it feel free to share any advice or feedback!


End file.
